Promised (Proper Romance) Page 3

  Lord Williams had ruined everything.

  I started to stand. Mr. Northam placed a hand on my shoulder and bent to my ear. “Keep playing.”

  I turned to him in astonishment. “Your cousin walked out on me, sir.”

  “Yes. And if you do not keep playing, it will be seen as the insult it was likely meant to be. But if you continue, if you show his leaving had no effect on you, the audience will change their opinion and instead attribute his actions to extreme rudeness. Trust me.”

  I located Daniel. He looked thunderous, but someone a few rows ahead of him shifted and he was lost from view.

  I was on my own.

  Not on my own. I had Mr. Northam. Though for how long I couldn’t be certain. Surely even he wouldn’t remain interested in a woman his cousin had so openly disgraced.

  I picked the song up where I’d left off, fumbling through a few measures before I again found the rhythm of the music. I struggled to pull emotion from the keys, willing everyone to forget what had happened.

  It was no good, of course. The damage was done. Lord Williams had shamed me. He had ruined my chances for securing the match that was to set me free. He had stripped me of my hope. It was all I’d had left to propel me forward, and he’d stolen it on a whim.

  I hated him.

  “You’re doing wonderfully,” Mr. Northam said. “They have forgotten already.”

  His words made me want to laugh at their ridiculousness. Instead, my eyes stung. I fought back. I would not shed a tear over this. I had suffered shame and humiliation before. I could suffer this.

  When I’d ended the song, I stood and curtsied with a plastered smile. Either Mr. Northam was correct and the people in attendance had decided Lord Williams’s departure had nothing to do with me, or they were too polite to show their actual thoughts, for the applause was loud. Daniel leaned back in his chair in a relaxed fashion, though his face was still red. He nodded at me, signaling I’d done well.

  Mr. Northam took my arm. “You played marvelously. Better than I had hoped. Now we will walk slowly back to our seats. If we act as though nothing happened, then in their minds, nothing will have actually happened.”

  “You seem to know an awful lot about managing opinions,” I said.

  He smiled at me. “I’m a rake, remember? Managing opinions is what I do.”

  Three

  Two days later, I smiled my way past a small group of guests and slipped from the parlor into the ballroom, closing the door quietly behind me. The click echoed in the empty room like the locking of a cell door. In the silence that followed, I rested my head against the cool wood of the door and allowed my false smile to finally fade.

  Though my brother and I had stayed in the hopes that the week could somehow be salvaged, not even Mr. Northam had shown more than a polite interest in me since Lord Williams had walked out on my performance. Not just my performance—he’d completely left the party. More than a few women now glared whenever I passed, tittering about how handsome he’d been, how no one else compared, and how I should never have been invited. The men had been polite but distant, uninterested in a girl spurned by a baron.

  The note that had arrived from our father that morning requesting our return had come as something of a relief. But it also confirmed my failure. There was nothing left but to return home and reconcile myself to the disappointment.

  I pushed away from the door. Rays of midmorning sun shimmered across the empty, dark floor, inviting me to share a dance, their brightness the only illumination in the otherwise dim room. Ignoring the invitation, I hastened toward the painting of the girl, desperate to see it one last time.

  She still stood alone, still stood with arms spread, still lifted her face to the sky, welcoming the rain.

  I would never be her.

  I closed my eyes against the truth, but it twirled through my thoughts and settled in my heart as firmly as a rock sinking to rest at the bottom of a lake.

  I would never be free.

  A breath grazed my neck, sending wisps of hair fluttering against my skin. Before I could turn, a trace of expensive cologne drifted in the air and a low voice whispered into my ear. “This isn’t the first time I have caught you studying this painting, Miss Brinton.”

  Mr. Northam. Why was he here? I kept my tone disinterested and adjusted the sleeve of my coquelicot spencer. “Are you following me, sir?”

  “Could you blame me if I were?”

  It was easy to see through his pretend flirtations. And to come up with a few of my own. “On the contrary, it would confirm my good opinion of your taste in company.”

  He chuckled and stepped around me to lean against the wall. His tall figure, dark green coat, and black hair proved an alluring contrast to the portrait of the yellow-coated elderly gentleman hanging above him. “When do you leave?” he asked.

  “Within the hour, I expect.”

  “You do not appear disappointed to be departing early. Are you not concerned I shall be miserable without you?”

  “Miserable? A lady can always hope.” We would have been so perfect together, our meaningless banter filling whatever time we were made to spend in each other’s company. And yet, what was the purpose of such banter now? “In all honesty, I am glad to be leaving.”

  His eyes darkened. “Williams is a blackguard.”

  The disdain in his voice was gratifying, and yet it was time to move past the mortification of it all. Lord Williams would most likely live his life never knowing how he’d ruined mine. And I already knew how futile it was to harbor grievances against such people. “It’s of little import. I shall never see him again.”

  “Dance with me?” Mr. Northam asked suddenly.

  I glanced around the empty room. He’d closed the door behind himself so that we truly were alone. “One couple is not enough for a dance,” I said.

  His lips curved suggestively. “It is for a waltz.”

  The dance had been introduced in London a few months ago, and though the papers termed the dance scandalous, there’d been whispers that Mrs. Hickmore was not opposed to its being danced this week. However, being alone with Mr. Northam was enough to shred my already tarnished societal status. Dancing the waltz with him was certain to ruin my reputation permanently, and I still had my honor; Lord Williams had not robbed me of that.

  I shook my head. “You will have to content yourself with a bit of conversation. Considering we are without a chaperone, it should satisfy your craving for scandal until I am gone.”

  Mr. Northam’s voice dropped to a whisper. “I could convince you to dance with me.” His eyes gleamed with the promise that I would not regret accepting his invitation.

  For all his attempts at persuasion, I remained unmoved. I had Edward to thank for that. “If you merely wish to dance, I am afraid your efforts would be futile.”

  Mr. Northam shoved off the wall, removing the distance between us with a step. His eyes bored into mine; the laughter left his smile. “And if I wish for more?”

  I hesitated, quelling the flush of anticipation as quickly as it had arrived. I had already resigned myself to leaving without a proposal. Unwilling to allow myself hope, I shrugged. “Our time together has run out.”

  “There is still time to make it a success.”

  He no doubt measured success very differently than most. “By Mrs. Hickmore’s standards or by your own?”

  “Both.”

  My breath caught. Whatever else he meant, he meant to propose. It was the only event Mrs. Hickmore would ever consider a success. Had my imminent departure made him realize how perfect we would be together? Had he finally understood what a quick and easy match we could make?

  He tucked two fingers beneath my chin and tilted my face toward his. “A kiss to seal the deal?” His gaze shifted to my lips.

  I placed a hand on his arm, forestalling his kiss, needing to hear the words that would bind us together. “What exactly are you proposing?”

  “You have an apt way of choosing
words.” He leaned closer.

  Boots clicked on the floor behind me.

  We’d been caught. Alone. In a somewhat compromising position. Only a frank proposal could save me now.

  Mr. Northam’s attention shifted above my head and his smile disappeared. He dropped his hand but didn’t step away.

  “Margaret, there you are.” The edge in Daniel’s voice was unmistakable. Even so, relief filled me that it was only my brother who had discovered us instead of someone else in the party. He clamped a hand on my shoulder, its pressure sending me stumbling back a step. “The carriage is waiting. Excuse us, Mr. Northam.”

  I couldn’t leave. Not yet. I looked at my brother, hoping to catch his eye. If he knew how close I was to a proposal, he might delay our departure. But his anger was focused on Mr. Northam, whose smile had become hard and mocking.

  “Of course, Mr. Brinton. I was merely bidding your sister farewell.”

  Wasn’t he going to tell Daniel? Wasn’t Mr. Northam going to say the words?

  Daniel’s fingers dug into my shoulders. I attempted to shrug them off, but his grip tightened. “Come, Margaret. We are finished here.”

  I didn’t yield to his pressure. I would not give up hope just yet.

  Mr. Northam’s amused gaze lowered, meeting mine. His expression grew unexpectedly intimate. This was the moment.

  “I am sorry we were interrupted. I look forward to continuing our conversation soon.” He captured my gloved hand and slowly lifted it to his lips.

  He hadn’t asked.

  But he wanted to continue the conversation. He still wanted to propose.

  “I would like that very much, Mr. Northam,” I replied, praying my smile was encouraging instead of disappointed. I had waited this long. I could wait a bit longer.

  Daniel ripped my hand away and slipped it around his arm but refrained from speaking. He would air all his censures once we were alone in the carriage.

  I didn’t care. As we turned to leave, I shifted my parting grin from Mr. Northam to the painting of the girl welcoming the rain.

  “What were you thinking?” Daniel demanded, not caring that I was struggling to secure my bonnet as he pulled me down the front steps to the tree-lined gravel drive and our waiting host and hostess.

  I ignored his question, smiling and dropping a curtsy at the Hickmores, grateful they provided a temporary distraction from Daniel’s reprimands. “Mr. Hickmore, Mrs. Hickmore.”

  “Ah, you found her,” Mrs. Hickmore exclaimed, her round face lighting up. “No doubt in the middle of a large group of very downhearted young gentlemen.”

  “I wish I had,” Daniel muttered, shaking Mr. Hickmore’s bulky hand.

  Mrs. Hickmore glanced inquiringly at me.

  “Thank you again for inviting us,” I said quickly to avoid questions.

  Mrs. Hickmore’s lips pressed into a small frown. “I am sorry it started off poorly. I shall never invite that Lord Williams again. Behaving so rudely toward you. His actions are not to be excused. I do regret that things did not turn out as you had hoped.” She leaned in until I could see each pore on her nose. “Perhaps we shall have another gathering and invite only the one young man who proved most promising.” She gave me a knowing smile and winked, then straightened, her head bobbing in agreement to her own comment.

  Daniel tensed at the reference to Mr. Northam. After clearing his throat, he said, “We should be on our way.”

  Mrs. Hickmore frowned. “I wish you an uneventful ride home, Mr. Brinton.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Hickmore. I assure you we shall be quite safe.” He placed a firm hand on my back.

  “Give my regards to your father,” Mr. Hickmore said.

  “And mine to your mother,” Mrs. Hickmore added.

  I curtsied once more before allowing Daniel to direct me to the waiting carriage. He assisted me in, climbed up behind me, and shut the door. I settled onto the cushioned rear-facing bench while he sat opposite and rapped on the ceiling. The carriage jerked and slowly drew down the drive.

  Hours of traveling stretched before us. Earlier, the thought hadn’t disturbed me. Though my younger sister Alice was sure to be disappointed not to have a new brother-in-law in the making, I missed my morning walks around the lake on our estate and the quiet evenings being in the company of only my family. But now the hours of sitting would be fraught with images of what might have been had Daniel not intervened.

  Struggling to resign myself to the journey, I turned my attention to the window and the Hickmores’ diminishing house. A figure stood on the stairs. It took only a second to realize Mr. Northam had followed us outside, his unmistakable silhouette unmoving against the pillared white building. I gasped with delight.

  Daniel glared out the window, then huffed as he sat back. “Have you gone mad?”

  The carriage turned and Mr. Northam disappeared behind the trees. I closed my eyes so Daniel’s sour expression wouldn’t tarnish that final image of Mr. Northam on the step watching me drive away. It was all I had to feed my hope.

  “Margaret!”

  I peeked at Daniel through half-shut lids. “Shh. I’m dreaming.”

  “Dreaming? Of Northam? Or of how it felt to be kissed again?”

  I shot up in my seat. “Excuse me?”

  “You’re lucky I was the one who discovered you instead of one of the guests or even Mrs. Hickmore. What would you have done then?”

  He thought we’d kissed? My face burned. I had not realized Daniel would assume I was so lacking in morals. “He didn’t kiss me.”

  “But it was your intention to allow him to, was it not?” His tone turned derisive. “You needn’t have made a fool of yourself. Northam is a rake. If you had asked, he would have given you a good kissing the first night.”

  My insides roiled at the suggestion. “I would never permit a man such liberties without being engaged to him.”

  “Are you saying you were not about to let him kiss you?” Daniel leaned toward me, emphasizing his point.

  I drew back and crossed my arms. “I do not believe it is any of your business what I was or was not going to allow.”

  “On this trip you have been my sole matter of business,” he responded through clenched teeth.

  I rolled my eyes, but since he had come only because I had wished it, I yielded. “Fine. Yes, I would have allowed Mr. Northam to kiss me, if you hadn’t stridden into the room, in all your holy glory. But only after he’d proposed.”

  Daniel’s brows shot up before knitting together with concern. “Northam is not the marrying type. Whatever he said, it wouldn’t have been followed by a proposal. But even if he did propose, I would never permit you to marry him.”

  I scoffed, irritated by his assertion. “Fortunately, I am not in need of your permission. Father won’t refuse, not when Mr. Northam is a gentleman.”

  “He will once I inform him of Northam’s reputation.”

  The restraint on my frustration gave way. “If I do not care about the rumors, I see no reason why they should matter to you! You cannot want me dependent upon you, Daniel. Do you realize how humiliating that would be? And what will become of Alice? My remaining unwed may all but ruin her chances for a good match.”

  “Anyone other than Northam, Margaret.”

  “At least with Mr. Northam I’ll know what I’m getting. Say what you will, but it would be a fine match for both of us. Mr. Northam is not so wealthy that my dowry would go unappreciated, yet his estate is reputed to be quite breathtaking. He would obtain a wife who would not pester him with romantic sentiments, and I would finally obtain the status of married woman.”

  Daniel opened his mouth, closed it, settled back against the seat, and crossed his arms. “He would never love you. You will never be happy without love.” His voice was quiet but certain.

  I shifted and stared out the window at the passing meadows of sheep. It was true that marriage to Mr. Northam was the opposite of what I had desired two years earlier, when I had giddily agreed to E
dward’s proposal and my family’s expectations of our union. But it was exactly what I wished for now.

  Four

  The carriage became stuffy and cramped as the hours passed and the sun remained high in the sky. The scene outside stayed nearly unchanged, flashing between sheep, fields nearly ready for harvest, and occasional villages. And still Mr. Northam’s image did not leave my mind.

  Suddenly, the carriage jerked and tilted sharply to the side. My hands shot out for balance as our coachman John cried a warning. Daniel’s head slid forward, the pillow he’d propped under his head sliding with him until it slipped and his head whacked against the wall. He bolted upright, only to be thrown back by the carriage’s sudden stop.

  “What is going on?” he demanded.

  I shook my head in ignorance, straining to keep from sliding out of my seat.

  Daniel shuffled along the bench toward the door, but it swung open before he reached the handle. John’s weathered face peeked inside.

  “Apologies, master, miss, but the carriage lost a wheel.”

  “A wheel? Our carriage has lost a wheel?” Daniel grabbed at the door frame and heaved himself out.

  “Yes, sir,” John replied, his voice moving around the back of the carriage. “Not sure how it happened.”

  “Hmff.”

  “Someone will have to be fetched to fix it,” John continued.

  I sighed. If only the wheel had fallen off while we were still at the Hickmores’. I could even now be walking the gardens, my hand on Mr. Northam’s arm, the kiss of his proposal warm on my lips.

  “How long will we be delayed?” Daniel asked.

  “Hard to say, sir, but I’d expect most of the day.”

  Daniel’s face reappeared in the doorway, consternation etched in the lines around his mouth. “We’re going to be here a while. You might as well get out.”

  “I would like nothing more.” I clasped his waiting hand and he assisted me down the abnormally large drop to the ground. Placing my hands on my hips, I glanced around. The road was worn but not large. Trees lined one side of the lane, and a wide, open field stretched along the other. It was peaceful.